


Fly Away

by AmyNChan



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Maka/someone else now, and friends being freaking awesome, basically moving on, getting yourself up and going and out of there, go friendship!, idk - Freeform, previous Soul/Maka, probably Death the Kidd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 02:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17416856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyNChan/pseuds/AmyNChan
Summary: “You’re in love with her again, aren’t you?”“I never stopped being in love with her.”





	Fly Away

It had been difficult, showing his face again.  Not to say that the mere act of walking around had him in pain, oh no.  He could walk for hours—days on end.  He had, in fact, in the opposite direction.  No, what sucked about being here was…

“There you are!”

_Damn._

She stood before him now, standing upright as always with her hands on her hips in what might as well be known as the ‘Maka’s in charge’ stance.  She was always in charge of something.  But, true to Maka form, she had grinned when she saw him lurking in the shadows.  Also true to Maka form, she had all but elbowed her way over to where he had stood in his safe little corner, thereby making it the not-so-safe little corner.  “Having a good time?”

Soul grunted.  Other than the obvious source of discomfort, he couldn’t say he was particularly having a _bad_ time.  It just wasn’t a good one.  He knew she knew this—even when he wanted it to be, his soul wasn’t exactly _quiet_ from what he remembered—but she chose not to say anything about it.  That was considerate.  He watched her look for something to talk about.

“So…  salmon, huh?” she asked, gesturing to his plate.  He glanced down.  To be honest, he couldn’t really remember grabbing anything off the food table.  He must have gone on autopilot or something.

“Yeah.”

“You always liked seafood.”

“Yeah.”

He knew his short answers were putting her off.  He also knew she just wanted to talk to him.  After all, they were friends, and friends had conversations.  They, at least, had conversations.  Usually.  They were usually fun conversations.  They usually had fun conversations.  But tonight was a night he wasn’t up for trying to have a ‘fun’ conversation.  She, apparently, didn’t get the memo and geared up for another attempt.

To save himself from another onslaught, he placed one of the small salmon sandwiches in his mouth and chewed obnoxiously.  He didn’t bother offering her any; she always hated salmon.  Maka, however, looked at him with a disapproving frown.  He did his best to ignore the instinct to gulp.  If he gulped, it would be game over.

“Hey!” shouted an oncoming voice.   They both turned, but only Soul was impacted by the flying mass of blue-haired friendship that came hurtling towards them.  Goodbye, salmon.  “Soul!  Is that any way to greet your god!?”

Soul was no stranger to somehow ending up on the floor, be it from fighting or just plain exhaustion, but clearing away his sense of disorientation by looking up at the grinning face of Black*Star was a new one.  Nevertheless, he quirked an eyebrow and shoved the man off of him.  “Sorry, I’m non-religious.”

“Well, guess I’ll have to convert you back to worshipping me!” exclaimed the ninja.  Soul felt himself being yanked to his feet and then into a headlock.  He was then jerked around until he was facing Maka at Black*Star’s side.  “Sorry, Maka.  I’m gonna have to steal Soul for a bit.”

“But—!”

“Gotta go!”

And then, in typical Black*Star fashion, the man ran as quickly as he could with Soul in tow, leaving Maka alone in the corner with Soul’s dropped plate.  Classic Black*Star.

“You owe me a new plate,” mumbled Soul once his friend had stopped.  Upon taking in his surroundings, he realized that Black*Star hadn’t just brought him outside, but into the mansion’s maze.  No one would be finding them unless they were really lucky.  Soul wondered why he didn’t think of it sooner, honestly.  The maze was a _much_ better hiding spot than the corner.

“You could say ‘thanks’,” returned Black*Star as he nonchalantly picked a piece of salmon out of his hair and flicked it into the dirt of the garden. “Instead of this me getting you food business.”

Soul’s focus slid back to his friend again.  He was in the process of shuffling some dirt atop the salmon, giving it some sort of half-hearted funeral.  “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome!  Anytime!  Aren’t I the best?” asked Black*Star with that overly expressive grin of his, his task with the salmon done.  Normally, Soul would be up to this tomfoolery.  But normally, he was up to at least a little bit of conversation with Maka, too.  It was _not_ a normal night.  He just wanted to go back to sulking before he had to give that damned speech.

“Hey, not that I don’t appreciate you getting me out of there, but—”

“Nope.”

Soul glared at his friend.  Black*Star looked as relaxed as ever with his arms folded behind his head.  “Why not?”

“Because if I leave you out here to sulk, then you’ll just walk back in there with an even worse frown than before.  And Kidd’s got enough on his plate to deal with without you walking around like you’re on PMS.”

Soul scoffed at the comparison.  “Wow, I’m impressed.  You might actually know what that is.”

“I _have_ a girlfriend, you know.  Gods are supposed to know about these things.”  Soul did his best not to wince at that.  But, of course, as fate was not kind to him earlier, she was downright cruel to him now.  Even the oblivious Black*Star noticed his less-than-subtle slip-up.  “This thing with Maka still bugging you?”

Soul wanted to deny it, but he didn’t have the heart to.  Instead, he glared at the ground.  Maybe if he concentrated enough, his eyes would turn into miniature scythes and he could throw them into the ground.  No, too ridiculous…  maybe he could just turn one of his toes into a blade and start digging through the dirt that way.  No, he’d only ruin his shoes.  These were his only dress shoes.  He didn’t want to have to get another pair.  They cost too much.

He heard Black*Star sigh loudly and at great length.  Soul didn’t care much that Black*Star was so exasperated.  He just wanted to be alone for a while.  “Come on, man.  How many times can you fall in love with the same girl?”

“Just once.”

Silence followed Soul’s statement.  Stubborn silence on one end, shocked silence on the other.  But then again, Black*Star and ‘silent’ aren’t two phrases that go together too often and for good reason.  He took a moment to process the information and piece it together.

“You never stopped loving her.”  Knowing it was no good to deny it, Soul shook his head.  “And you thought being _here_ would be a good idea?”

“I didn’t think it was the _best_ idea, but I wasn’t just gonna stand them up.  It wouldn’t be cool.”

Black*Star paused for a moment, probably debating how effective beating some common sense into his friend would be.  In the end, he seemed to decide that the suits were too expensive to replace and he settled on an exaggerated sigh.  “Man, you guys call _me_ the idiot.”

Soul didn’t have anything to say to that and thus remained silent for a moment longer.  Black*Star took another approach.

“Look, it’s been four years.  She’s moved on and so should you.  You’re not doing anyone any favors by staying here.”

Soul scoffed.  “Yeah, like I haven’t heard that before.  That I’m not in a good place emotionally, that I need to let go—I _know_.  I just…”

“No, dude, I mean staying _here_ ,” said Black*Star, pointing at his feet with an earnest look on his face.  “When’s the last time you took a mission outside of Death City?”

“When’s the last time I was _trusted_ with a mission outside of Death City?” shot Soul, his eyes narrowed.  “Besides, last of the death scythes?  Kinda have to stay here.”

“Bullshit.”  Black*Star glared at Soul.  “Just because you haven’t gotten your ass out there doesn’t mean no one wants you out there.  Kidd’s just so twitchy to mention it and you’re still too jittery when it comes to the idea of leaving Maka behind like she’s gonna forget you—don’t argue with me, you know I’m right.”

Called out and irritated, Soul glowered at Black*Star.  “And you’re suddenly the god of wisdom here?”

“I’m god of _something_ , all right,” returned Black*Star.  “Look, Soul, no one’s gonna forget you if you take a break from all of this—” Black*Star gestured to the mansion.  “—and Maka’s been trying her damnedest to keep your friendship together after everything that went down.  Don’t you still want to be friends with her?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then you need to leave!”  Black*Star slapped something in Soul’s hand and held it there for a moment, squeezing it with a force that would have hurt a normal person.  “I mean it.  Take this and get out of here.  Go on a mission, take some you time, forget all of this stupid drama for a while and then you can get back here when you’ve got your head on straight.”

Soul withdrew his hand and looked at what he had been given.  Tickets—two of them.  One to leave and another to return.  And a mission briefing.  Everything he’d need to leave within five minutes and stay gone for an indefinite amount of time.  However long it took to get the job done.

Despite the weight he could feel easing itself off his shoulders, Soul stayed tethered to where he stood.  “Kidd asked me to do this speech for him.  I’m not leaving without seeing it through.”

“He’d understand if you didn’t come back in,” replied Black*Star.  “Besides, I have a back-up speech all set to go.”

Soul was momentarily stunned.  Loyal as his friend may be, he knew that he didn’t have enough influence to get all of this at a moment’s notice.  And he _definitely_ knew that as reckless as Black*Star was, he wouldn’t suggest ditching something like this—with prepaid _tickets_ —without…

Soul looked more closely at the tickets.  Placed them next to each other.  They were perfectly symmetrical with one another.  He looked at the mission orders.  That wasn’t Kidd’s handwriting; it was Liz’s.  And even in the darkness, he could make out a small picture of a giraffe.  He looked up and glanced around.  He and Black*Star were truly alone.  At a party held by the Lord of Death.  That would have been impossible unless it was facilitated…

The pieces clicked together and Soul could have kicked himself for not realizing it sooner.  He looked up, brandishing the tickets and mission before him as evidence.  “How long have you guys been planning this?  And why would Kidd even bother to ask me to do this if—”

“Hey, they wanted to give you this tomorrow after the party, but I think you need it tonight,” said Black*Star, putting his hands in front of him as if to keep Soul’s suspicions at bay.  “I told them this was a bad idea, but they just said if you thought you couldn’t handle it, you would have said no and they would have given it to you then.  I said that was bullshit.”

Slightly appeased, Soul looked back down at the gift in his hand.  It was his ticket out of this situation, out of dealing with all of this.  He could hop on the plane and not have to sit there and watch one of his nightmares come true.  And he would take it…

…later.

Soul turned to Black*Star with a weary smile on his face and pocketed the tickets.  “I appreciate it, but I’ve still gotta make that speech.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry,” said Soul, tapping his pocket lightly.  “This is just me keeping my promise.  I’ll be gone in the morning, you’ve got my word.”

Black*Star folded his arms but seemed to concede the point.  The two walked back to the reception, one vaguely victorious and the other oddly determined.  Upon their return, the eldest Thompson sister started ushering the boys in.

“You were almost late,” hissed Liz.  “They almost sent out a search party.”

“Looks like you won’t need one,” returned the ninja.  “Your god is more than capable of finding a prodigal.”

“You’re the one who dragged him out there in the first place, you—”  Liz looked as though she were going to scold Black*Star more, but something halted her.  Instead, she shook her head and forewent the formality in favor of turning to Soul.  “Everyone’s waiting in the other room for us.  Are you ready?”

The man looked from one friend to another, contemplating the question and ruminating over his life choices.

He’d allowed himself to be swallowed by angst and bitterness for too long.  Instead of picking up the pieces of his shattered heart and working hard to move forward, he’d chosen to sit amidst broken glass, cutting his heart up every single time he moved.  He’d hurt himself emotionally.  He’d hurt his friends emotionally.  Enough that they had all pitched in and hand-made an intervention.

He knew that one single intervention wouldn’t do any good.  He knew that just one mission wouldn’t change the fact that he’d hurt for so long, but perhaps…  perhaps after doing this, after closing that chapter of his life, he could finally begin to take steps forward in his life.  He could begin to heal.  He could begin to _let_ himself heal.

And by Death, he was ready for _that_.

**Author's Note:**

> So...you probably can't tell I'm actually a SoMa fan. X'D But this was really fun to write when I did so a few months ago. Probably because I wanted to really focus on Soul and Black*Star's friendship, which I think is utterly ridiculous and great at the same time. X'D
> 
> The summary is actually the initial quote/prompt I came up with that started this idea. It kinda spiralled from there.
> 
> So yeah. Hope y'all enjoyed! *^_^*


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